We'll meet again
by Dollyrocker85
Summary: This is total M rated Jalex guys! Set pre series 3 Alex finds herself thrust even further back in time. Does she have one more case to solve before she can get,"Home" and who is this handsome stranger she has been partnered with?
1. Chapter 1

**Ladies, Gents and fellow pervs of the Mays and Keats thread. This is mine and Scully's latest offering. It's set just before series 3 and it's Jalex...if that's not your bag then I'd retreat now. As always we own none of the characters or anything like that...if we did we'd sure as hell not be sat around writing fan fiction!**

Once again Alex felt the familiar pierce of a bullet; even at this point, in the brief moments before she was enveloped by the darkness that would soon come, she knew it was an accident. For all of his threats, Gene would never hurt her. His face was pained and full of concern as he looked down at her. She clung on as long as she could, but the pain was too great and the urge to close her eyes far too strong. Despite Gene's pleas, she slipped away.

She woke expecting the beep of hospital monitors, the sharp white brilliance of hospital lights. But, as her hazel eyes fluttered open, she realised the scene was quite different. She was in bed; a grand, towering four-poster. An elaborately embroidered eiderdown covered her. She was in a large room with a enormous arched window, and the light seemed to pour in despite the curtains still being closed. Gingerly stepping to her feet, she noted that she was wearing an ankle-length, cream-coloured nightdress and there were rollers in her hair. _Good God, where am I this time?_, she asked herself wearily.

Alex wandered barefoot to the window and looked outside. She was high above the street; it looked a lot like London, but the landscape seemed..._odd_. The smog was thick and dense; buildings were dotted around, the streets were still cobbled, and the people below scurried around like ants going about their daily business. She was greeted by the comforting sight of an old faithful London bus trundling up the road. As it drew nearer, she noted the advert on the side of it: _'Gary Cooper in __**High Noon**__'_, it read. Her mind was awhirl as she tried to make sense of the scraps of information in her head. She recalled a poster for the very same film hanging in Gene's office. "Ahh, 1952-I took Irene Barker to see High Noon at Deansgate Odeon. Couldn't've been more perfect: Gary Cooper on form, a bag of chips after, and a quick fumble on the way home! Those were the days, Bolly." Gene's voice haunted her ears like a ghost; she could almost smell his scent of whiskey and cigarettes.

"No, no-this is too cruel!" she called out to the empty room, almost unwilling to believe that Gene's bullet had sent her spiralling further back in time. She looked around the room, frantically scanning about for anything that would give her a clue as to why she was here; and, more importantly, what she needed to do to get home. She wondered to which 'home' she was referring: 2009, or 1982 with Gene and Co. at her side? She would have taken either at that moment.

At the foot of the bed was an old brown leather suitcase; placing it gently on the bed, Alex undid the clasps. The case was impeccability packed; there was a white chiffon blouse and a dark green three-quarter-length tailored skirt. The clothes were minimalist, but ever so elegant. There were two pairs of nylon stockings, a white garter belt, a small bag containing a few bits of make up, a hair brush and a toothbrush. Underneath all of this was an identity card:

_Ms Alexandra Drake  
Special Operation Executive  
Date of Birth: 11th June 1920._

_1920?_ Her stomach churned. Before she could comprehend the situation, there was a loud knock at the door. Pulling on a long dressing gown, she went to open it. "Good morning, Ms Drake, I trust you slept well? Should you not be dressed by now, dear? The car will be here in half an hour." The kindly gentleman on the other side of the door spoke; he seemed to know her and Alex felt a connection with him as well but his face she could not place. He must have been 60 or so, with a deep, well-spoken voice and a large moustache. "Yes...yes, of course. Apologies, sir. I overslept but it won't take me long." She played along as though she knew where she was going. "I still need to give you your papers, ma'am. Do you have a moment?" The man held up a brown paper envelope. Ushering him in to sit at the small oak table in the middle of the room, Alex then sat opposite him as he began to speak.

"Here is your passport; you will go by the name of _Alexandra Mills._ He pushed a small brown booklet across the table towards her. You and your husband, _'James Mills'_ , will be the guests of Baron Nicolas Levkov. Baron Levkov studied here in England and graduated from Oxford back in the 20's with a degree in Engineering Science. Most notably, he excelled even his most astute tutors; the man has an astonishing mind. We understand he is now working for the Russian government developing a new anti aircraft missile; but, of course, we believe there is more to it than that. The Russian government would not employ a man of Levkov's brilliance and not use him to his full potential." He pushed a photograph of a middle-aged gentleman with short dark hair and piercing eyes towards her. "Levkov is well aware of his brilliance, Ms Drake, and has become quite the talk of the Russian middle class. His daughter, Yana, is to be married. Your cover story is thus:..." He paused as though to make himself very clear. "...James and yourself are British Aristocrats; you will be guests at the wedding. Levkov will want to show you off; let him. Whilst you are there, take note of everything he says: nothing is insignificant. A man like Levkov is prone to boasting. If he's working on something more significant than the anti-aircraft weaponry, he may well want certain people to know about it."

"Agent James Keats will meet you at the port; he's been given the same brief. He is your 'husband' for the next few weeks. Ms Drake, do try and stay on the right side of him." The kindly gentleman said this whilst stifling a chuckle. _Apparently my reputation has preceded me,_ Alex thought with a roll of her eyes. "He's a nice lad. Stick with him. Try not to get separated; there's safety in numbers, and Jim's one of the best. I went to school with his father." His eyes glinted slightly, a curious smile on his face. "Well, I digress, at any rate; I must leave you in peace and let you get ready, dear... " He ambled out of the chair and reached for Alex's hand, holding it steadily in his own. "Take care Alex; I know you won't let us down."

Closing the door, Alex rested her head against it. _How could this be happening?,_ she sighed. Once again, she had found herself out of time and alone in the most foreign of places. Dragging herself to the bathroom, she pulled the rollers from her thick, chocolate-coloured hair and set about preparing herself for the challenge ahead.


	2. Chapter 2

Exhausted from the journey, Alex finally landed at Pulkovo Airport. The cold hit her as she stepped off the plane; she'd never felt anything like it. A chilly wind swept across her face as a shiver came over her. She collected her baggage and made her way to the airport entrance. Her weary eyes took in her surroundings; compared to this, Fenchurch East 1982 seemed like some modern Utopia. Everything was so unbelievably worn and tired-looking, which, ironically, was how she felt. The whole place seemed a patchwork of beige, brown, and grey-everything seemed nicotine-stained and the air was thick with smoke. _Good lord, you'd think colour hadn't been invented yet,_ she mused.

Suddenly a tall, handsome man around her own age approached her. He wore a neatly tailored brown suit, and his dark, wavy hair matched his eyes both in colour and intensity. "Alexandra!" he called out, his eyes lingering on her a moment too long as if to let her know he was in character. He placed the lightest of kisses on her cheek and picked up her bag with his free hand. "Come on, darling, let's get you to the car." Alex nodded in his direction knowingly. They walked in silence for a few moments before reaching a black Austin 4/44. He walked tentatively around the car, running his hands along the framework. She knew instantly what he was doing: he was making sure the car hadn't been bugged. Alex was taken aback when, as he got around to her side of the car, he gave a shy smile and opened the passenger door for her. She wasn't used to such courtesy and snickered to herself: I'm lucky if Gene gives me a chance to even _get in_ the Quattro before speeding off.

In the car, he once again inspected each nook and cranny; the look on his face was regimented as if he had done this many, many times before. Starting the ignition, he threw her a glance. "It's clear: we can speak freely." He proffered his hand. "James Keats, nice to meet you." Alex took his hand and shook it firmly; his hands were freezing, but that was hardly surprising given the temperature. "Alex Drake; likewise," she replied with a businesslike smile.

"So! Where are we headed to?" Alex dared to enquire. "Well, Mrs Mills," he gave a coy smile, "We're guests of Nicolas Levkov and will be staying with him and his wife. Not to worry, however; I've read the correspondence and they think we're British aristocrats. Special Branch have pretty much led him to believe we're royalty! He's not in the least bit suspicious-they've done a smashing job." James' eyes never left the road. Alex shot him a glance out of the corner of her eye. "I see. So, we suspect Levkov is developing something sinister for the Russian government?" Alex tried to remember the brief but her brain was muddled and overwhelmed. "It's suspected that he's developing a bomb of some kind using chemicals for use on the US and Britain." Alex couldn't stifle the laugh which followed that sentence. "Weapons of mass destruction? The Axis of Evil?" She quickly composed herself. "Sorry-sorry. As you were." But James failed to share her irony. "I struggle to see the funny side, Alex." His cold stare made her feel like a naughty school girl. She shrugged and rolled her eyes, trying not to grin. "Again-apologies, James," she said meekly. "Undertakers' humor...it's one of my specialities." The corner of his lips seemed to prick up slightly. "Call me Jim," he replied.

After an hour or so, Alex was growing bored and restless; she never was a good passenger, "Well, then, Jim, what's our back story? We should have one at the ready; Levkov will no doubt want to know more about us." Tilting his head, Jim shrugged, "Special branch have already told him that we live in Chelsea. I am a Chartered Accountant and you like to play bridge." Alex couldn't contain her outrage. "**Bridge? **Is that really all they could come up with? I like to play _bridge_? Good Lord, I wonder how long that took them." She paused for breath, smacking the dashboard in emphasis. Jim shook his head and smiled. "What were they supposed to say- in your spare time you're London's best criminal profiler? It's just a back story, what does it matter?" Jim tried to reason. "It matters because they'll expect me to follow you around like a bloody puppy, hanging off your every word, every bit the dutiful little woman." Alex huffed and sat back in her seat. Jim looked uneasy. "Well, sorry to inconvenience you. Bloody hell, Alex, we've been handpicked for this job! Do you not think I'd rather be back doing my day job?" Jim's indignant tone irked Alex further as she shot back. "I don't know, Jim! All I know is I would rather be anywhere: two- thousand and nine, or, dare I say it, nineteen eighty-bloody-two where I only have one misogynistic bastard to deal with!" Alex crossed her arms firmly and turned her head to stare out of the window. Jim ground his jaw as if to bite his tongue at her tirade. "Well. All I can say is that you'd best watch that mouth of yours once we're there," he chuntered. "I don't think Chelsea housewives are known for using the B word!" Without a moment's pause, Alex muttered under her breath. "Oh, piss off."

Finally, they pulled up at a grand-looking country manor. Staring up at it as she got out of the car, Alex could scarcely believe her eyes. They were shown to their room by a middle-aged maid called Alma. Opening the old oak door, Alex gasped, exclaiming, "This is bigger than my flat!" Jim dropped their bags on the floor and proceeded to go about the room lifting up lamps and tapping on walls. He shot Alex a sarcastic glance, muttering, "Oh, so glad it's to your liking." Alex wandered around the room; there was a en suite bathroom with a roll top bath, a king-sized four-poster bed and a small couch. The whole room was full of light-it was like something out of a fairytale. For a brief moment, Alex reveled in the majesty of it.

Jim set about unpacking his case as Alex gave in to the urge to fling herself down on the bed. She peered across at him and stretched her tired arms over her head. Jim huffed as he hung up several neat dress shirts in the wardrobe. She felt a slight pang of guilt-things hadn't exactly gotten off on the right start. "Are you going to sulk all night?" she offered. Jim looked at her disgruntled. "I don't sulk," he replied. Alex smiled, there was something likeable about him, especially when he stuck his bottom lip out like a spoiled child might. Jim continued unpacking, and as he turned around he noticed that Alex had closed her eyes. He walked over to her side and pulled the quilt over her before settling down on the uncomfortable wooden couch which was far too small for his frame.

_Alex walked through the empty offices of Fenchurch East, frantically looking for Gene. "Gene…GENE!" She called out, but an echo was her only reply. Her walk turned into a run as the distinct feeling that something was following her came upon her. Her feet beat against the shiny tiles until she reached the CID office, and for a moment she felt safe. Shutting the door behind her, she gulped in the smoky, familiar aroma in the room. Suddenly, she noticed her feet-they were warm and wet. Looking down, she shrieked in horror as dark red blood soaked into her shoes. Following its trail, she was led to Gene's office. Gene sat in his chair with his back to her; Alex reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, slowly turning him to face her. Gene's face was all but obliterated, a gaping, bloody hole where the left side of his face should have been. Alex shrieked in both fear and revulsion…  
_  
Jim was shaken from a restless sleep as Alex flung herself upright in bed. "**Gene!**" She didn't seem quite awake; her hair was wild around her face and she was shaking slightly. He made his way over to the bed, sitting on the edge of it. He observed her trembling body for a moment; she was staring straight ahead, clearly terrified by something. She looked just a girl in this light, far from the opinionated woman he had picked up from the airport. He should have put her out of her misery and awakened her, but he was fascinated to just watch her, a strange smirk crossing his features. With a great jump, Alex shook herself from sleep. Quickly, Jim placed his arms on her shoulders. "Shhh…Alex, you're having a nightmare," he soothed, brushing her hair back from her face. She looked back at him, still woozy from sleep. "It was.. awful...," she stuttered. Jim placed a hand over hers and intoned, "I know, I know, but it was just a dream." Alex focused on his face as her heartbeat began to slow to a normal pace. "Of course," she whispered, feeling more than a little embarrassed. She looked around the room. "You've been sleeping on that?" She gestured to the blanket slung over the couch. "Oh, Jim, you must have been so uncomfortable." "No it's fine, really," he shrugged. "You're quite the gentleman, aren't you?" she said, smiling warmly. "Take the bed, I'm going to have a look around anyway." With that, she leapt to her feet and smoothed her skirt. "Alex, it's 2am!" Jim looked up at her with agitated eyes. "Perfect time, then, isn't it? Everyone's asleep! You don't have to hold my hand, Jim; I'm a big girl. Get some sleep." Alex made her way to the door, throwing Jim a knowing glance as she slipped outside.


	3. Chapter 3

Making her way down the stairs in the dark, Alex tiptoed in her bare feet so as not to make a sound. The house was grand and sprawling; tiled floors gave way to plush carpets as she opened a door that she had seen Levkov step into earlier. Levkov had struck her as a witty and charming man; he was well into his 50's, but he still possessed a shock of dark hair and a glint in his eye. He had greeted them as though they were royalty, welcoming them into his home and instructing the staff to see to their every need.

Alex stepped in to the room cautiously; moonlight made the room nearly as light as day, and no one had bothered to draw the curtains. As she had a look around, she surmised that this must be Levkov's study. An ornate, old desk sat to one side of the room under a towering window. She pulled out each drawer in turn but the desk yielded no clues as to his work. She flicked through notes and official-looking documents but there was nothing one would consider incriminating or out of the ordinary. She then moved to a tall standing cabinet in the corner; it was crammed full of awards and commendations. _Levkov was clearly a proud man,_ she mused, a mocking smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She then found herself drawn to an old class picture; rows of smart-looking school boys stood up straight and stared nobly into the camera. She lifted it gently out of the cabinet and inspected it further, trying to decipher which of the almost-identical faces was Levkov's. She was struck by the conformity, the sheer repression of this time and place. Shaking her head slowly, she thought to herself, _Don't worry, boys. Rock and roll's on it's way; you're going to love it!_ She was about to put the picture back in the cabinet when she noticed the backing was loose; it came open with hardly any effort, revealing concealed documents. She unfolded one of the documents and laid it out on Levkov's desk. It was a blueprint full of letters and equations, but none of it made sense to Alex. _Why was it hidden? What did it mean?_

"What do you have there?" Alex nearly jumped out of her skin as Jim stepped out of the darkness. "Good God, Jim-are you trying to bloody KILL me?" She whispered this through grinding teeth, clasping her hand to her chest. "Well, I thought I had better come and find you; we were instructed to stay together," Jim spat, checking to see that no one was in the doorway. "You're so bloody paranoid, Jim; why is that?" Alex looked at him quizzically. He simply sighed and shook his head. "Oh, I don't know, Alex, maybe I just prefer not to get on the wrong side of Russian Barons with Government connections whilst we are guests in his HOME. Can I remind you that we are here to observe, profile and report back; that is all. This is not a Sherlock Holmes novel, Alex; there's a bloody war on." Jim was clearly fed up as he looked at Alex, still holding the document in front of her. Nonchalantly, she shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, the cold war; it all ends years from now in 1991. I remember it well, Jim, don't worry yourself about it." She returned her attention to scrawled formulas before her. Jim shook his head frustratedly as he pushed her out of the way, refolding the document and stuffing it haphazardly into the back of the frame. Alex threw him a furious scowl. "Who the hell do you think you are? How dare you try and stop me doing my job?" She pointed a finger at his face. Jim replied sternly, "I have a job to do here as well, you might remember. I will not have some woman walking in here and compromising it." He glared at Alex. "Is that what this is about? Because I'm a woman? I thought better of you, James. Really, how ridiculous." Alex scoffed at him, a tone of condescension in her voice. Before Jim could counter back, there were footsteps on the stairs. Both looked at one another, wide-eyed. Jim raised a hand in silence as though to say, "Don't panic", and, placing his hands on her upper arms, he directed her behind the large door. He made every effort to ensure that they would be shrouded in darkness and not in plain sight if someone briefly checked the room. Once behind the door, Jim pulled Alex close to him so that they were both totally enveloped in the door's shadow. Suddenly pressed against his body, Alex felt a flush over come her. She was by no means a short woman, but at the side of Jim she felt miniscule. His arms remained wrapped around her holding her in place, and she could feel his heart pounding through his chest; only a few thin layers of cotton separated them. She scolded herself for feeling like a silly schoolgirl; however, it had been so long since she were this close to a man, especially one so infuriating and charming as Jim.

Jim leaned down and brushed her dark curls aside to speak softly into her ear. His breath was hot, only adding to how flustered Alex felt. She closed her eyes for a moment and leaned slightly into him. "I think it's clear; make your way slowly upstairs. If we get stopped, we'll say you were feeling unwell and needed some fresh air." Jim's fingers were still touching her hair and Alex was completely undone by this. She could only nod in acknowledgment, as her voice had, for the first time, escaped her.


	4. Chapter 4

After maneuvering themselves out a side door in the study and retreating to their room, Jim once again curled up in an unnatural position on the all-too-short chaise. Alex, meanwhile, enjoyed a fitful first night's sleep in her new reality. The next day was the wedding; she hoped she'd be up to the task.

Alex and Jim learned early on that guests at a Russian wedding were expected to wholeheartedly partake in the celebrations. Of course, the ceremony had been a fairly low key affair. This was still postwar Russia and any pomp and circumstance would have been seen as ostentatious; however, the party afterwards was held in Levkov's lavish dining room. After the meal, the tables and chairs were cleared away to reveal a huge room for guests to mingle. Vodka flowed freely and Jim looked shocked to see Alex down a couple of shots with Levkov. Walking over to her, he pursed his lips as he discreetly whispered, "Excuse me, Nicolas, might I have a word with my wife?" With that, he gently but firmly took hold of her arm and took her a safe distance from prying ears as he hissed, "Do you really think that's a good idea, Alex? We are not here to indulge in frivolous activity with the very man we are here to investigate." To Jim's surprise, Alex was entirely sober; she seemed to have a rather high tolerance. Speaking clearly whilst looking him dead in the eyes, she nonchalantly replied, "James, this is a _Russian wedding_. Had you bothered to study your briefing, you would know that it is considered rude not to partake in the festivities. We'll stick out like a sore thumb if we aren't seen drinking like everyone else." She leaned into him and smirked, adding under her breath, "...and don't you worry about me; I'm fairly sure I could drink most of these old sods under the table." Alex gestured with her eyes towards the room full of overweight, old aristocrats. There were far more of Levkov's peers here than of his family. "Just watch yourself," Jim concluded. Alex opened her mouth in retort when she felt a hand brush up her bare arm to her shoulder.

"Мои друзья, Мои друзья!" It was Levkov, slightly worse for wear but still beaming with pride from seeing his eldest daughter wed. "I do hope this is not a quarrel," he said jokingly, smiling knowingly at Alex. It only made Alex squirm, he was so self-satisfied. Still, she seized her opportunity. "My husband here worries that I've imbibed too much, Nicolas." Alex batted her long lashes in the Russian's direction, playing every bit the downtrodden housewife. "No, no, no, James? Surely not?" Levkov, pretending to look offended, pressed a hand to his chest as if hurt, not removing the other hand from Alex's shoulder. Shooting a bitter look at Alex, Jim laughed, "Oh, really, Alexandra, you do exaggerate!" A satisfied smile crept across Alex's features as she noticed Jim turn an ever-so-slight shade of pink. "James, my friend," Levkov stepped closer as though Alex should not hear, "...you have such a beautiful and vivacious wife; I bet she will only get more so with a little of the Russian spirit inside her." His eyes glistened knowingly at Jim. Over Levkov's shoulder, Jim could see Alex's look of disgust, her brown eyes lit up in irritation. Seizing his chance to play her at her own game, Jim could not resist a small jab. "Well, between you and me, Nicolas, she's not too impartial to a bit of the English spirit, if you know what I mean?" Jim smugly looked over at Alex. His quick quip soon backfired as a butler wandered past with a tray full of vodka shots. "Well.." Levkov replied, raising a sly eyebrow to Jim. "...in that case, you must join me in a toast," he pronounced. Levkov stopped the butler merely by raising a hand and handed a glass first to Alex, then Jim, and lastly, one for himself. "What are we drinking to?" Jim asked. Levkov's reaction was to throw his hand up in the air in a sweeping gesture exclaiming, "Love, of course, James! To love!" Alex couldn't stifle the giggle she felt bubbling inside her. "Oh my dear, you're sadly mistaken, my husband hasn't the first clue about romance." Levkov wrapped his arm around her once again and Jim caught her looking at him all too amused. With that, they all downed another shot of vodka. _Jim's face is a picture,_ Alex thought, smirking to herself, _he's grimacing as though he were being forced to swallow poison._ "You must join me later after the party-the both of you-in my study; we will set the world to rights!" Levkov pointed at the both of them as he made his way across the room to mingle with other guests. Jim, still holding an empty shot glass, turned to speak into Alex's ear. "Am I mistaken or were we just invited into the study that you broke into last night?" His voice was cool, but without a moment's thought, Alex flashed him a perky but sarcastic grin. "I think we may have just been propositioned for a Russian Scientist three-way! Ooh-how scintillating." She beamed as she straightened Jim's tie in a very 'wifely' gesture. "A what?" Jim squinted as Alex rolled her eyes dramatically. "Never mind, darling, have another vodka." Alex handed him another full glass grabbed from a passing tray.

A few more shots later, all the guests were beckoned to dance, and soon the floor was filled with couples in one another's arms as they moved to the music. Alex toyed with a empty glass in her hand as though the thought had never occurred to her that she and Jim should follow suit. Jim had now undone his formal tie and top button and was still composed and aloof, but Alex could tell that half a dozen or so vodkas had taken their effect on him ever-so-slightly. From across the room, Alex felt Levkov's lecherous eyes on her; he was gazing at her like a lion at its prey. Without a second thought, she reached out an arm and pulled Jim towards her. "Come on, Mr Mills, the least you can do is dance with your wife!" Surprisingly, Jim didn't hesitate; he merely took one of her hands in his and held her closer than was strictly necessary. She laid her head on his shoulder as Jim's hand rubbed tenderly at her back; it was hard for her to believe this was merely part of the act. Despite herself, however, she had to admit it felt good to be close to him.

"By the looks of things, you seem to have gained an admirer." Jim's voice was teasing as he smiled down at her. "Didn't think you had noticed," Alex teased, not taking her head from his shoulder. She felt him give a mock chuckle. "What do you take me for? As though I wouldn't notice another man trying it on with my wife." Alex giggled into Jim's chest; in her inebriated state, she dared to wish that, just for tonight, maybe that were true. "What are we going to do if he invites us back to his study?" she asked coyly. "I think," Jim paused, resting his chin on her head, "...if he asks, we make our excuses and say that you're not up to it; too much Russian spirit." She looked up at him slightly. "Why is it always me? Why isn't it your turn to be 'not feeling well' ?" Her words slurred ever so slightly and she hoped he wouldn't notice. "Because you," he paused as if to brace himself, "are the little woman in this unlikely union." Alex felt him chuckle into her hair.

They managed to make their way back to their room without gaining Levkov's now very drunken attention. Closing the door behind them, Alex was suddenly aware of how very weary she was. Jim rubbed his eyes; even without his glasses he could feel Alex's gaze on him as she gave him a downplayed yet dazzling smile. She glided out of the bathroom in the cream-coloured silk nightdress from the morning earlier. Jim tore his eyes away from her, embarrassed; she looked stunning. Her skin complemented the fabric perfectly, the silk clinging to her in all the right places. She moved fluidly to the bed and Jim laid down on the couch he'd spent a very uncomfortable night on the prior evening. "Oh, James, for God's sake; you can't sleep on there again." Alex spoke in a very practical tone. "This is a king-sized bed-loads of room!" Jim seemed shocked at the thought. He drew breath as if the thought of it was absurd. "Thank you, but no, I couldn't, it wouldn't be right..." She cut him off, raising her hands in a slightly tipsy gesture. "Stop being ridiculous! We'll sleep in the same bed and not have sex; it'll be like we are REALLY married!" Jim let out a slight yet uncontrolled laugh at her reasoning, feeling his normal resolve crumbling. he had to admit the bed did look far more comfortable, he was still fully clothed, and the thought of spending the night beside Alex Drake was actually not an unwelcome one.

"Come on, get in," she murmured to him. Gingerly, Jim slipped under the covers beside Alex. To his complete shock, she shuffled slightly closer to him and propped her head up on one elbow, smirking lazily at him.

"What?" Jim's lips twisted at the sides in a half smile, suddenly feeling conscious of her scrutiny. "Nothing," she answered, but her eyes told him otherwise. Despite himself, Jim felt himself pull towards her slightly. Alex then placed a delicate kiss upon his lips, testing the waters. Overtaken, he returned Alex's kiss fervently, his tongue playing against her teeth as she granted him access. She tasted wonderfully of vodka, strawberries, and something so absolutely her. His hands slid down her body, gliding over the silk; it felt electric underneath his fingers. He drew the fabric slowly above her knee and dared to ghost over the skin below. Reacting to the stifled moans Alex was making, he took hold of her thigh and drew it up over his hip, locking her in place so that their bodies were flush. She pressed against him, heat pouring off of her. Their kisses grew so passionate that he could hardly recall where he ended and Alex began. She pressed her hips solidly into his and there was no hiding his own arousal. Her breaths were labored as she softly moaned into his mouth. "Oh, God, James.." Suddenly it reminded him who he was. _James Keats._ He didn't do this; he didn't get drunk on vodka and make love to fellow agents, even ones as beautiful as Alex Drake. He immediately pulled away, looking at her with a mix of both confusion and irritation. Sensing his unwillingness to proceed, Alex seemed suddenly ashamed. "What..what's wrong?" her voice wavered as he released her and rose from the bed. "Get some sleep, Alex." "Jim, wait, I'm sorry...," she pleaded with him as she pulled the covers up around her sitting frame, but it was too late; he was already out the door.


	5. Chapter 5

Alex sat alone in the silent room, feeling tiny on the enormous bed. She felt stupid: _why had I flung myself at him like that?,_ she thought. Was she really that desperate? She knew she would never sleep, there was too much left unsaid. She decided that the best plan of action would be to find Jim and apologise, thus clearing the air and hopefully preserving at least some of her dignity. She dressed quickly and made her way downstairs. The house was quiet, the other guests long since gone. Alex made her way through the halls in search of Jim. He wasn't in the dining room or the living room, and he sure as hell wasn't outside; it was a bitterly cold night. Making her way back to the staircase, she heard hushed voices coming from Levkov's study. She couldn't believe Jim; was the thought of spending the night with her really so terrible that he would rather spend the time with a vodka-soaked old man who loved to talk about how brilliant he was? Still, she leaned closer to the door, intrigued.

"All I am saying, Levkov, is I know you're not working on an anti-aircraft missile. Really, did you seriously expect the British government to buy that one? We _educated _you, for God's sake; we know what you're capable of! I know far more than you could ever imagine, Nicolas; I've seen your formulas, seen the blueprints. They're most impressive, I must say. What would your Oxford teachers make of you now, I wonder?" Alex closed her eyes in disappointment. Jim was about to blow their cover; he couldn't care less about her. She had been played for a fool. "James, can we not be reasonable about this?" Levkov's words stumbled as Jim piled on the pressure. "I'm sure we can come to some agreement, Nicolas. I've long been an admirer of your work; these weapons you're developing are far more advanced than anything we are developing in England. I would hate to stand in your way, but of course...my silence will come at a price." Alex's stomach turned as she listened to Jim relish the upper hand he had. "Of course, as you can see," Levkov's voice was nonchalant, "...money is not a problem; why did you not say?" Jim chuckled, and the hollow sound set Alex's teeth on edge. "Oh, Nicolas... you underestimate me. I don't want your money; I want in." She could almost see the smug look on Jim's features. "'In'?" Nicolas said with an uneasy laugh. "Yes, _in_. When you complete your work, I want to be there with you; I want to be privy to the in's and outs; I want to press the button on the bomb to end all bombs." His voice was level as he put his proposition on the table. "And the way I see it, Nicolas, if you wish to carry on with your work, this is the price of my silence." She waited for Levkov's response, but it didn't come. He stuttered as if to start a sentence, but Jim cut him off. "Don't answer now, Nicolas; we'll talk in the morning. My wife will be wondering where I am."

With that, he flung open the door only to be greeted by Alex's disgusted face. To her surprise, he merely smiled at her knowingly, pushing past to make his way up the staircase. Following him in hot pursuit, she barely managed to hold her tongue until they were safely back in their room. "You f**king Judas!" She wasted no time flying into her tirade. "What! What was all that about? Do you seriously think you'll get away with this? God, you think you know it all, don't you? You think this is some sort of 'brave new world'? Good God, man, this is the dark ages; you've no idea! Do you really think you can buy your way into the boys club like that? You have just signed your own death warrant, you stupid, ignorant bastard!" Alex's skin coloured bright pink with rage, but Jim just sat in front of her, a neutral expression on his face. His arms were folded in front of him as though he were letting her get it out of her system.

Taking a deep breath as though he were tiring of her insolence, Jim spoke. "Alex, for Gods sake! Did you actually buy the 'I want to press the button on the bomb to end all bombs' mumbo-jumbo?" He chuckled ironically. "Jesus, I didn't even manage to fool myself! Oh my Lord!" Jim raised his eyes to the ceiling as his laugh grew heartier. "I'm in the wrong job, clearly! Move over, Gary Cooper!" Alex was unamused. "So why didn't you tell me? What is your plan? I thought we were working on this together, and you just fly off on your own?" She rested a hand on her hip, waiting for answers.

Taking a step closer, Jim managed to control his laughter. "Alex, if I can get him to give me a copy of those blueprints, if I can get him to TELL me what he is planning, then the government will have a man on the inside. This really could not be better. I can be our eyes and ears; we'll be able to use Levkov's own work against him." Suddenly, Alex felt a pang of guilt; not only had she flung herself at him once this evening, she'd then accused him of being bent. What else are you going to pull out of the bag, Alex?, she thought. She shook her head and looked to the floor, hiding her face in her hands. "You could have TOLD me, Jim." She then looked up, her eyes indignant. "You can't blame me for wondering whose side you're on when you don't even keep me in the loop." Jim stepped closer, his eyes hooded and dark. Sensing her hurt, he reached out to her, his hand caressing her cheek softly. "It was too dangerous, Alex; still is. I didn't want to put you in danger. How could you doubt whose side I was on?" His face was now scant millimetres from hers. Alex almost wished she could run, but his gaze was so intense and her body was frozen in place. She finally found the courage to speak, but her voice was small and wavering. "I was looking for you; I thought I should apologise for earlier, what you must think of me. "She gave a nervous laugh as she looked away. "Oh, Alex...," Jim looked at her affectionately, tilting his head to meet her gaze. "Don't be sorry; I'm not." His long fingers left her cheek to slowly push back her curls. "Really?" Alex looked up at him through heavy lashes as Jim moved closer. 'No' was his only reply as he crashed his lips onto hers. In seconds, her hands were lacing themselves around him, up his back and into his wavy, dark hair. There was electricity between them; Alex felt every nerve ignite when Jim's hands slid under her blouse, cupping her breasts. She moaned softly into his kisses and made short work of undoing his shirt. In an instant Jim had rid her of her blouse and bra; his eyes scrutinised her every curve, and for a moment she felt incredibly self-conscious. "You're perfect," he murmured into her ear, before making a trail of damp kisses down her neck. Alex felt her knees weaken at the heavenly feeling of his lips running lower and lower down her body, pausing to take one of her nipples in his mouth before releasing her and working his way to her navel. She hardly noticed him unbuttoning her skirt and sliding it down her legs, revealing a white garter belt and lace-top stockings.

Jim ran his fingers lightly over her stocking-clad legs, his hands cool against her burning skin. She reached down to cup his face, making him look up at her with his devastating brown eyes. "Come on," she whispered, nodding towards the bed. En route to the large four-poster, she heard the clinking of Jim's belt; there was no going back now. As she leaned over to get onto the bed, Alex felt his fingers hook under the lace of her garter belt and knickers and she gave a small, girlish giggle as he slipped them down her legs. He then laid down, pressing himself to the back of her, and she could feel his unmistakable arousal on the small of her back. His breath on the back of her neck sent a uncontrollable shiver through her as his hand slid around her body. As his fingers reached for the softness between her legs, she gasped as his fingers brushed against her lightly. She cringed at the moan that escaped her as he increased the pressure, making her even wetter than she already was for him. Drawing ragged breaths from Alex, Jim reveled in the effect he had on her. Just as she felt the sparks begin to fly, his hand slowed. "Don't...," she murmured breathlessly. "...please...don't stop." Jim let out a soft, playful, yet almost cruel chuckle. "Shhh, not yet, not like this." His words were like molten lava against her earlobe. "Bend over." He pushed her shoulders forward forcefully; she acquiesced, powerless in her desire for him. With that, she was right where he wanted her. His hands gripped roughly onto her hips, and without warning, he pushed himself into her. Alex couldn't control the half-moan, half shriek she uttered. Jim slowly smiled down at her. Leaning over for a moment, he took a fistful of her thick curly hair and pulled her head back. "Shh, my darling Alex; we don't want to wake Mr Levkov, do we?" His voice mocked her. Returning both hands to her hips, he continued his slow torture. The sensation of him inside her was somewhere between bliss and agony; it had been so long since she was touched like this, and despite Jim's conservative exterior, he was clearly knowledgeable in this department. Alex sighed audibly as he began to take her harder and harder. The sweat ran down her neck, and seeing how much she desired him, Jim started to let his carefully-constructed exterior drop; he couldn't help himself. Pulling her up by her hair again, his voice spoke roughly into her ear. "Touch yourself, Alex." She obeyed him without question and snaked her fingers down between her legs, her fingers ghosting over him as he plunged himself inside her. The feeling of that alone nearly threw her over the edge; she barely needed to brush her fingers over herself before she started to come. Jim picked up on this immediately and, smacking her arse audibly, he leaned over and whispered, "Come for me, Alex, NOW." His voice was low and his hips seemed to be moving of their own volition. "Oh, God, Jesus, F**k!" she screamed. Jim placed a hot hand over her mouth as she threatened to get louder; she bit down hard on his middle finger as she rode out the last waves of her orgasm. At the sight of seeing her so satisfied, Jim seemed to go into overdrive, slamming into her so hard it was almost too much to take. "Alex...ALEX..." His release was hot and fast, his thrusts slowing until he stopped. Both out of breath and utterly spent, they collapsed onto the bed. Alex's face was flushed and her damp curls were matted to her forehead, but she managed to give Jim a weak but satisfied smile. Jim, still out of breath, looked down at her and smiled, placing a few kisses on her neck and collarbone before pulling her to rest her head on his chest.


	6. Chapter 6

When she woke, Alex found herself alone. She stared up at the ceiling, unable to bring herself to feel guilty about what they'd done. Stretching her limbs leisurely, she checked the time on the alarm clock which sat by the bed. Jumping almost out of her skin, she noted it was 11.30; their flight was in an hour and a half! Sprinting out of bed, she grabbed the nearest item of clothing to cover her nakedness-Jim's shirt-which she retrieved off the floor where it had landed the previous evening. She rushed to the wardrobe, flinging her clothes into her case without care or finesse.

At that moment, with nary a knock, Jim entered the room. Upon the sight of Alex's bare, slender legs, he averted his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Alex scoffed at this display of feigned embarrassment. "Good Lord, Jim, they're just legs; you saw far more than that last night!" Jim glanced at her, seemingly uneasy with the new familiarity between them. "It's 11:30, why the bloody hell didn't you wake me?" Alex threw up her hands in frustration as she continued to furiously rush about the room. Jim wandered leisurely to the chair and sat down. "Oh, that-I sent a telegram to HQ, told them I needed more time. I will get hard evidence out of Levkov, but I need a few more days at least. I need to gain his trust," he said matter-of-factly. "Well! Thanks for letting me in on that fine bit of decision-making, James; so very considerate of you!" she scolded. As if to infuriate her further, a smug smirk spread over Jim's features. "Well, I thought I'd let you sleep; you seemed...tired out." Alex let out a hollow laugh as she manhandled one of her dresses back onto a coat hanger. "Don't flatter yourself. Any fatigue I may be experiencing has more to do with the 18 hours of travelling than your sexual prowess." She did her best to sound irked, but Jim saw her stifle a smile through the dressing table mirror.

Still busying herself by the wardrobe, she felt Jim's icy hands encompass her waist. "Are you sure about that, Alex?" His breath was hot on the back of her neck, and she had to admit that at the moment, she was far from sure. However, she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction-not yet, anyway. She closed the wardrobe door, letting it slam shut with a bang as she whirled around. "Yes. I am quite sure. Now, if you don't mind, I need a shower." The look on Jim's face was worth her resistance. He couldn't hide his annoyance as she wandered to the bathroom, shrugging off his shirt and throwing it back to him in her wake.

_Later that day..._

After dinner that evening, Levkov was back to his usual smarmy self. His wife soon excused herself from the table and Alex wondered if it were protocol for her to do the same. Never one to stick with tradition, she set about playing the dutiful little woman. "What were you boys doing locked away in that study all day? I was promised a tour of the city today and so far I haven't left the house." She pouted like a spoiled school girl. "I'm sorry, my dear; we were merely finalising our business deal. Your husband drives quite a hard bargain!" Levkov gave a chummy smile towards Jim. "And what has my husband been up to now?" Alex rested her head on her hand as though slightly tipsy. "He never tells me _anything._" She leaned in closer to Levkov, who suddenly seemed uneasy at her enquiries. Sensing this, Jim jumped from his seat. "Come on, then, Alexandra; let's take the car. We still have time to see the city before sunset." Alex looked up at him, confused. Why would they do that? The whole point of spending more time there was to gain Levkov's trust. "Oh, no, darling, it's far too cold." She waved her hands as though not to trouble him. Jim was clearly irritated. "And that's why I buy you all of those expensive winter coats, correct?" Jim's voice was almost venomous. Levkov tried his best to ease the tension in the room. "What a marvellous idea, James! And you said he knew nothing of romance, Alex, ha ha..." Levkov chided, all but pushing her out the door.

Once they were in the car, Alex could hold her tongue no longer. " 'All those expensive winter coats'." she relayed back at him. "Could you be a more patronising git?" Jim merely rolled his eyes. "I was in character, Alex, as you should have been. I made a lot of progress with Nicolas today; we can't afford to blow it." Jim stared at the road ahead, not bothering to glance in Alex's direction. "Oh, so it's NICOLAS, now, is it? So what exactly were you two plotting earlier on today, Jim? You were in that study hours." Alex's eyes narrowed accusingly. "I was finding out more about the chemicals he's working with; it's complicated." Jim's hands fidgeted slightly on the wheel. Alex was perilously close to flying into a rage at this remark. "So, then! I'm just a f**king puppet in all of this, am I? Just some plod to play your wife while you get the real job done?" In her tirade, she didn't notice that Jim had pulled the car over and they were now sat on the edge of woodland. The sun had all but set and with the headlights out there was only moonlight flooding the car.

"Why have we stopped?" she asked. Jim turned to her and removed his glasses, placing them in his top pocket. "Because I can't do this while I'm driving, Alex." He snaked his fingers through her curls and pulled her into a kiss. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered if this was just his way of silencing her. There was a niggling feeling in her gut that told her he was definitely keeping something from her, but his mouth was hot against the cool air and their mouths were now battling for supremacy. Eventually, she couldn't even think; Jim's hands began to play at the tops of her stockings as he fiddled with the clasp on her garter belt. She could only manage to breathlessly utter, "What if someone comes past?" Her question only hung in the air as Jim silenced her once again.

Soon Alex found herself on her back, pressed against the leather interior of the car by Jim's weight. Her skirt was pushed upwards, knickers exposed, garter belt nowhere to be seen. He then paused momentarily, ripping his lips from hers as his eyes took her in. It was as though something had changed in him; he looked at her as though she were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. She hadn't been looked at like that for a long, long time. Sure, Gene had looked at her admiringly, even Evan had looked at her that way once or twice, but not like this. Jim then brushed a thumb over her cheekbone. "Alex...," he whispered so lightly she could barely hear it.

Feeling him now straining through his trousers, she pulled him down towards her, quickly undoing his belt and zipper. His hand gently stroked down her thigh as her hips bucked into him, aching to be touched. His fingertips then ghosted over the lace fabric of her knickers; the friction was almost too much to bear. Still dragging his fingers up and down over the lace, he looked her dead in the eye. "What do you want, Alex?" he murmured darkly, "Tell me." "Touch me," she answered. "Say it again. AGAIN!" he commanded, making her whimper softly in agony. "Touch me, Jim...please." With that, he pushed her gusset to one side and slipped two fingers into the damp flesh beneath. She gasped at the wonderful feeling of his fingers buried deep within her. "I need you," she gestured, trying to position him on top of her. Quickly removing his fingers, he shot her a wicked, knowing smirk. She panted in the sheer frustration of it, but she wasn't disappointed for long. Pushing her leg over the passenger seat head rest, Jim positioned himself between her thighs and once more entered her with his fingers, this time only increasing her pleasure with his tongue. Alex gasped and reached for his dark curls as he went to work on her; soon she was pulling his hair and losing all coherent thought. She could feel the familiar coil threatening to spill over into oblivion. "Jim..._James_.. I can't...No..," she moaned, but he showed no signs of stopping, only increasing his pressure on her. Closing her eyes tightly she gave in, a shocked yell overcoming her as she came harder than she'd ever recalled. "Oh f**k , James, f***!" she called out, finally releasing her grip on his hair.

Jim made his way back up her body and she felt his frantic breath on her neck; his eyes were overcome with lust. Taking himself in hand he slid into her easily, and almost instantly she felt the beginnings of another orgasm in the pit of her stomach. She wrapped her legs around his hips urging him on, but he needed no encouragement at this point. He held her tightly, both his arms now embracing her as he laid open-mouthed kisses on her jaw and neck. "Oh God, Alex...," he moaned as his hips crashed into hers. She answered him only with a kiss and did her best to meet his thrusts. The movement of his hips seemed to be hitting her in just the right place. Suddenly, Jim instinctively reached down to pull one of her legs over his arm; the change in angle sent her reeling once again. Alex's whole body was covered in a sheen of perspiration as she called out incoherent profanities, coming once again. The feel of her convulsing around him was ecstasy. He could no longer think, only do exactly as his body dictated. His hips were relentless as he grew closer and closer to his own release. Burying his face in her hair, Jim finally fell over the edge, pushing into her so hard she screamed out loud. Alex clung to him, placing kisses on his wet shoulder. Raising his head to look at her, he never spoke but kissed her gently on the lips. To her surprise, he actually held her for a few minutes before the reality of their situation came back to them. Pulling himself up off of her, Jim set about re-buttoning his shirt. He shot Alex more than a knowing glance as he quipped, "So, Mrs Mills; how did you like your tour of the city?"


	7. Chapter 7

Alex should have slept like a baby; but once again, her sleep was disturbed and restless. When she did sleep, her dreams were filled with images of Gene's troubled face and a young man, one whom she had never met but with whom she felt a strange connection. When she woke, she was shaken, sweating despite the relentless cold. Looking at Jim's sleeping form beside her, she considered that he had seemed to be hiding something earlier in the evening. Why was he so keen to get her out of the house? She hated to admit it, but all of her instincts-her "guts", as Gene would have put it, told her that she shouldn't trust the beautiful stranger beside her.

Watching Jim intently, she could see he was fast asleep. Clearly exhausted by their earlier activities, he laid on his stomach, arms stretched out by each side of his head, lips slightly parted, long, dark eyelashes resting on the tops of his cheeks. _You're really rather breathtaking, _Alex noted. She shook herself from her observation and her eyes fell upon Jim's suit jacket hanging on the back of the dressing table chair. After a few minutes spent internally debating whether she was justified in rummaging through a fellow agent's clothing whilst he slept, she eased herself out of bed and dug her hands in the jacket pocket. She checked one, then the other...nothing. Then, she saw a lining pocket which seemed to conceal a crumpled piece of paper. Upon retrieving it, she saw it was a telegram hallmarked with the British Government Crest. _"Car sent to collect Mr & Mrs Mills at Heathrow. Reports show passengers never boarded flight 214. Please advise on situation as soon as possible." _Alex swallowed hard, a lump forming in her throat. Jim said that he'd sent a telegram advising they needed more time. Why would he lie? She needed answers. Her curiosity hastened her pace as she made her way back down to Levkov's study.

Wasting no time, she made a beeline for the cabinet where she'd first found the blueprints. Upon finding the class photo where Jim had stuffed the document, Alex undid the back of the frame. To her dismay, it was gone. Why would Levkov move it unless he knew they had seen it? She ripped open the backs of the other frames in the cabinet, frantically searching for the document she was sure would give her answers. Suddenly, she was stopped by the sound of the safety being removed from a gun behind her. "Looking for these, my dear?" Levkov's voice chilled her to the bone. Turning around slowly, Alex saw him in the doorway; the blueprints were in one hand, the gun in the other. "Nicolas, I was lost, I..." Levkov cut her off, unwilling to hear her excuses. "Did you think I wouldn't notice the frame tampered with?" The edges of his lips curled slightly, as if amused by the whole situation. "Did you think I would not notice the paper disturbed? You really do have a lot to learn, Alex, and your husband informs me you are the best the British government has to offer? My, my, my." Alex couldn't hide her hurt at Jim's betrayal. She had suspected that something was amiss, but THIS? This was too much, even for her.

Levkov led her at gunpoint up to an empty bedroom at the far end of the house. "You will stay here until I decide what is to be done with you." Never once taking the gun away from the small of her back, he pushed her forcefully into the room, locking it behind her instantly. Alex slapped the palms of her hands against the door. "Wait, Nicolas! I can explain, I can! Just wait..." All she heard instead were footsteps walking away and down the stairs. She slumped against the door, the hurt of Jim's betrayal burning within her. "You f**king bastard..." she cried, still pounding at the door. Collecting herself for a moment, she looked about her prison. It was rather bare, a junk room of sorts. In the corner stood an old bed, a wardrobe, and a wash basin. Old, tatty curtains hung against the window and there were nails securing the windows shut. A chill ran through her as she considered that, maybe, she wasn't the first person to be kept here.

She sat on the dust-covered bed. This wasn't the first time she'd been held hostage; at least this was a damn sight warmer than the meat freezer that Chaz Cale had locked her in, but somehow this situation seemed a lot more dire. There was no Gene to rescue her now. _Gene..._ Alex closed her eyes; tears wouldn't help her now. There was no one coming to rescue her this time but herself. Swallowing down her sorrow, she tried to focus on plotting her escape.

She paced the room for what seemed like hours, although she had no way of truly knowing being as there were no clocks in the room. Her nails were bitten down to the flesh and her mind was in shreds. And then, she heard a key in the lock of the door. Standing straight, shoulders back and chest out, she prepared to face Levkov. Her eyes lit up with fury and surprise as she stared into the eyes of Jim Keats.

Hardly able to draw breath, Alex hated herself for letting angry tears flood her eyes. "You!" she spat through gritted teeth, "Get away from me!" Jim only moved closer. "Get out...GET AWAY FROM ME!" She screamed so loud she thought her lungs would burst. Alex threw her hands up and balled them into fists as she advanced towards him. Not saying a word, Jim firmly took hold of her wrists; Alex felt the beginnings of pins and needles starting to develop in her hands. "Shhhh...would you rather I send in Levkov? Would you rather I let him have his way with you?" Jim's voice was so patronising she could hardly bear it; but, truth be told, she was glad it wasn't Levkov. She'd had time at least to profile Jim, and thus gain a greater understanding. Sensing her acceptance, Jim released one of her hands and brushed a stray curl from her forehead in an act of affection that almost seemed genuine. "My God, Alex, what have you been up to now? You look a fright." Alex flinched; the voice was Jim's, but his demeanor had taken on a far more sinister air. "What's going on Jim? Tell me." Alex's voice trembled. His hand rested on the crook of her neck as though to soothe her, although she suspected he would snap it at a moment's notice if she didn't tread carefully. Jim raised his eyebrows as though to give her question serious consideration. "Well, Alex, it seems I was a better actor than you'd thought." Alex opened her mouth to put him in his place, but he quickly placed a finger over her lips to silence her. "Before you launch into once of your scathing observations on my character, Alex, I will remind you that your life rests firmly in my hands." Jim's fingers were cool on her lips and Alex knew she had mere seconds to decide how she would proceed.

Raising her hand to rest over his on her collarbone, Alex let her shoulders drop as though to give in. "Why, Jim? Why did you not trust me? You could have told me. Why do you have such little faith?" She looked up at him, her brown eyes large and soulful. "What, I was supposed to just tell you everything, risk all of my plans?" Jim scoffed, unwilling to believe she would have done anything but turn him in. Alex looked away as though she were a little hurt. "At first, yes; of course I would have asked you to reconsider. I can't lie." She drew a breath. "But surely you can see...Jim, I would follow you anywhere." She dared reach out a hand to stroke his cheek as Jim looked down at her, struggling to comprehend what she was saying. "I'm crazy about you; just think what we could achieve," Alex spoke in barely a whisper, moving nearer to him. His eyes searched her face, looking for some sign of truth or deceit.

His shoulders slumped and he let himself lean into her. "I just.." he started, his demeanor softening as he yielded himself to her. "...I just never thought you would see things my way," he conceded, still a little defensive and confused. Truth be told, he wanted to believe a woman like Alex could understand him, maybe even love him. Alex reached out and pulled his face down to her eyeline. "Jim, everything is your way now..." She cut herself off with the lightest of kisses on the corner of his mouth, testing the waters. Feeling his arms entwine around her frame, she knew she had him. He pulled her in so tightly that she could hardly breathe. His hands seemed to roam around her figure with such pressure and intensity that it was all she could do to stop her knees giving way. She could feel her lips were swollen and bruised from Jim's deep kisses that seemed to suck and nibble at all the right points. "Am I not enough for you, Jim?" she quizzed him, breathless from their exploits and playing every bit the insecure little woman. Jim paused and stroked her face, his eyes apologetic. "Don't..." he paused like a wounded school boy. "Don't say that, it's not like that; I didn't think you would want me...if you knew..." With that, Alex struck the final blow, almost hating herself for doing it. "I will always want you," she assured him, feeling her stomach twist itself into knots.

Jim inhaled sharply, reassured and confident. He crashed his lips upon Alex once more, this time attacking the spot on her neck that he had learned would drive her crazy. It seemed he had mapped out her body in the most infinite detail, knowing just where to kiss, just where to stroke, just where to lick. Driving her down to the bed, he straddled himself over her hips. Letting himself take in the sight of her, Jim reached out one hand and traced it down her neck and between her breasts, ripping open her delicate white blouse with the slightest of efforts. He shot her a smirk as he worked his way down the buttons of his own shirt; Alex could only lay there before him, struggling to hold on to the concept that this was for self-preservation and not pleasure. No longer able to take his eyes as they burned into her flesh, she reached up to pull him into another fiery, lingering kiss, their bodies pressed together as they writhed on the dusty bed linen.

Clearly determined to take the lead, Jim prised one of her hands off of his chest and pressed it palm down over his crotch, leading Alex right to where he wanted her, letting her feel just how hard she had made him. This somewhat adolescent action only served to assure Alex of her power over him. Taking him firmly in hand through the material of his trousers, she stared deeply into his eyes; he had never looked more vulnerable. In a moment of realisation, Jim asserted himself, shoving her roughly onto her back. Grabbing a fistful of her skirt, he quickly removed it from her, tossing it onto the floor. Alex now laid before him in only her knickers as he paused to take in the sight of her whilst finally undoing his trousers. She couldn't help but notice his face looked conflicted. Propping herself up on her elbows she couldn't resist: "What's wrong, James?" Her voice was like velvet, her words spinning a sultry yarn. "...a bit of stage fright?" His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared in such a way that should have been intimidating, but in this instance it sent shockwaves to the pit of her stomach. His features contorted into a sneer that only hinted at the storm that was about to ensue.

Wholly without care or consideration, he took hold of her knees, spreading them wide. Unceremoniously, Jim shoved her lace knickers to one side and slid two fingers into her in one rough movement. He was about to teach her a lesson not to tease him. Alex's head flew back, feeling his cool fingers explore her; there was something almost uncomfortably intimate about this act. Jim made no attempt to hide his anger at her insolence or the fact that he was staring directly at her as he watched the way her body reacted to what he was doing. Leaning over her, he spoke in a rough whisper, "Does it feel like I have stage fright, Alex..." He punctuated this by twisting his fingers, making her eyes blink open in surprise. She searched for words, but the power to form sentences escaped her at this point. "N..n...no," she murmured, her hips now moving with his fingers. Pleased at his victory, Jim removed his fingers and scoffed slightly at the whimper of disappointment this drew from Alex, pursing his lips in smug satisfaction. "You're going to have to beg for it, Alex." With that, he moved away from her. The feeling of loss was almost too much to bear; grabbing his shoulders, she flung him down onto the bed, determined. Still doing his best to look unmoved by the situation, Jim laid on his back looking up at her. "My God, woman; you're positively feral." It was his turn to tease, but he couldn't maintain his calm exterior as she suddenly sunk herself down upon him. Both moaned and gasped loudly at the thrill of it. "F**k, Alex!" Jim's arms flew to her hips, gripping firmly as she relentlessly thrust into him. Feeling himself getting rapidly closer he started to regret letting her have control, although seeing her from this angle, he concluded that it might even be worth the humiliation of not lasting all that long.

Sliding his fingers down to the juncture of her thighs, he brushed his thumb over her once...twice. "Oh, God, Jim...like that.." Her eyes remained closed. "Open your eyes," he commanded, still working on her with his thumb. "Alex, open your eyes. Look at me!" he demanded, knowing that with a few more flicks of his thumb she would fall to pieces around him. Her eyes pinged open, her expression almost frantic. Her thrusts had grown erratic now, and at some point his hips had started thrusting into her as well, Alex moaning perfectly in time with each impact. His thumb still making circles on her, he swallowed, trying to compose himself. "No one else gets to touch you like this Alex; do you understand?" Jim's voice was breathless but authoritative at the same time. Alex tried to vocalize but could barely speak at this point. "I said, DO YOU UNDERSTAND, ALEX!" Jim thrust his hips into her savagely, shaking her. "Yes..yes...Jim..no one but you...," she breathed as her orgasm finally hit her. Alex bit her bottom lip, trying to stifle a scream as her nails sunk into his chest. He held on to her, nearly bruising her skin as he pulled her down to his chest. Letting his own hips take over, he thrust into her until he climaxed, calling out her name into the crook of her neck.

Both of them stayed entangled like this for a long while until their breathing slowed and Alex felt Jim's heart rate return to its normal steady beat. Lifting her head from his chest, she gazed at Jim. He was sleeping soundly, looking contented and peaceful. The lines between fantasy and reality greyed once again and she almost hated herself for what she was about to do.


	8. Chapter 8

Nervous and weary, Alex pulled herself to her feet, her eyes never leaving Jim's sleeping form. Moving quickly, she retrieved Jim's discarded trousers, digging her hands deep into the pockets to retrieve the key that he had put in there earlier for safekeeping. Quickly dressing as best as she could, she let herself out of her prison, closing the door gently behind her.

What began as a more convoluted plan to disrupt Jim's plans with Levkov had dissolved into something more base. She knew Jim all too well by this point; any attempt to divert him from his sinister means to an end would be met with her swift demise. All she felt now was a parasympathetic need to just get the hell out of there, to take Jim's car and get back to England, even if she had no clue as to how she would get back to Gene and CID. Her heart pounded furiously against her ribcage as she walked down the long, gloomy corridors of the grand old house. At the foot of the stairs, she could see Levkov's study door was closed; she only had to make it a few feet to the front door before she would be free. Confident that Jim was still sleeping soundly where she had left him, she made a dash for it. The cold air hitting her face was exquisite, the pebbles crunched beneath her shoes as she made her way to Jim's car. Securing herself in the driving seat, her hands trembled almost uncontrollably as she tried to start the ignition. She wasted no time at all as she accelerated down the gravel path leading to the gates that she hoped would have been left open.

Forcing herself to take deep lungfuls of breath, she considered that she could be on a plane in a few hours and back to relative safety. Just as she was about to fly the car out of the cast-iron gates, Levkov stepped in front of the car, a shotgun pointing directly at her through the window screen. Her foot slammed down so hard on the brake that she was thrust forward into the window, her skull making a sickening crunching sound upon impact.

Her head rested on the steering wheel for a moment as the world around her faded to grey. "Oh, my silly girl, what have you done now?" Alex became hazily aware of a voice speaking to her from the back seat. Her eyes fluttered, struggling to regain focus. "That was a rather nasty trick you played on me back there." That voice...it was familiar...but it couldn't be? "A very dirty, filthy trick, Alex..." Her stomach was suddenly in her throat. It was Jim. How he had gotten into the car without her seeing, she would never know; she never saw a thing. Alex could feel the rage and spite radiating from him. Her head pounded, and suddenly Jim was reaching out his hand to grip her face. It wasn't the affectionate touch she had grown accustomed to. He squeezed her jaw in his ridiculously strong hands, forcing her to face him. "Jim, please...I just wanted to go home," she pleaded. Her desperate voice fell on deaf ears; Jim's face was a picture of shame, rage, and hints of every other bitter and unwelcome emotion. "You lied to me Alex, you lied and you prostituted yourself; I will never believe you EVER AGAIN, so I would save your breath while you still have it to save!" His jaw jutted out and his teeth ground; she could scarcely believe this was the man she had been loathed to leave sleeping peacefully just 20 minutes ago. His face was strange and contorted, almost morphing into something less human. She had never felt fear quite like this before."Tell me why I'm not going to let Levkov fire a bullet into that lying deceitful mouth of yours?" he spat, still gripping her jaw to the point she thought it might break. Her lips trembled as she struggled to find her voice. "Be..because…because you're better than this Jim, I can still see good in you; it's buried, but it's there." He laughed, a shallow and hollow sound, looking momentarily to his lap as though considering her observation. His laughing then grew louder and stronger until he was bellowing, the sound filling the car. Then, in an instant, his face dropped to stone, his eyes sober and sinister. "Wrong, Alex," he snarled, "Because if I let Levkov shoot you..." Jim then paused, savouring the moment as he fumbled for something in the pocket of his trenchcoat. "...It only means that I cannot." With that, Alex felt the freezing metal of a gun barrel at her temple. Her eyes lit up with terror momentarily, but before she could plead or reason there was a deafening bang, louder than anything she had ever heard before and hoped to ever hear again...

Once again falling into darkness, Alex found herself flailing-there was nothing to hold on to, nothing to steady her. And then the air rushing past her ears stopped. There was silence, absolute silence...and then a beep...and another...and another. She could sense light, bright, retina-stinging, sterile light. "Wakey, wakey, Drakey! Come on, you weren't THAT shot!" The words spoken by one Gene Hunt clung to her with a warmth that she never wanted to lose. This was followed by a sharp, stinging slap on her face: "Wake up!" Gene bellowed, and her eyes fought open with a flutter. "Well, that worked, then!"


End file.
